“Uri’kaAkeheni wishes to speak with Mr. Clementine,” the Tovanian said in accented Ashionen.
“We can present ourselves to theUri’kaat the Imperial estate shortly.”
The Tovanian shook his head, thick curls swaying with the motion. “Just him.”
Nathaniel slowly set down his teacup, the sweet chai turning rancid on his tongue as a spike of panic wound through him. Clearing his throat, he stood beneath Dariush’s heavy gaze, offering his own bow to the Tovanian. “I am at theUri’ka’s disposal.”
Dariush’s fingers snagged the soft cotton of his sleeve, the older man bending his head in a bid for privacy as he switched from the trade tongue to Ashionen. “Do not agree to anything without me present.”
Because Nathaniel’s words would be binding on behalf of Caris, whereas Dariush’s would not. “Of course.”
Nathaniel left the inner courtyard, falling into step beside the Tovanian and waved off the clerk. He escorted the Tovanian through the living quarters of the embassy into the ones meant for government work and beyond them to the small forecourt where a motor carriage waited for them. He was surprised to see Akeheni standing beside the open door, an elbow resting on the window frame, the other on the roof of the motor carriage. She smiled at him in greeting, though it did not reach her eyes, the tattoos on her face pulling with the motion.
“Oh,” Nathaniel said, startled by her presence. “Uri’ka, we would have welcomed you inside.”
“Your embassy isn’t built with my people in mind. Too unmoving. I know it is early, but there is someone who wants to meet you back on my ship,” Akeheni said.
For one moment, Nathaniel could not move, and it felt as if theKlovodhad his fingers in his mind again, controlling his limbs and breaking his heart. He knew she was not the enemy, but it still took effort to make his lungs work, and by the time he’d sucked in a strangled breath, Akeheni’s expression had settled into something like an apology.
“It is not anyone who would do you harm. They just dislike the land, and our ship is a better place for such conversation we must have,” Akeheni said, not unkindly.
Before he’d had his heart carved out, he would’ve been inclined to trust her. Now, Nathaniel wanted desperately to bring another with him, but the rest of the Ashionen delegation had been denied an invitation. Nathaniel could only join Akeheni in the back seat while the aide got situated behind the steering wheel.
It was a quicker ride to the port than it would’ve been during midday, the streets not clogged with as many vehicles or people. Those up and about were of the working class, putting in the hours before the searing noon heat would drive everyone inside. The humidity was thick even that early, causing Nathaniel to roll down the window to get air flowing through the motor carriage. The Eastern Basin was hot, but it was a dryer heat than in Oeiras. By the time they made it to the outer wall and through the gate to the river port, Nathaniel’s clothes were sticking to his skin from sweat, and he could taste the salt of it on his lips.
Oeiras’ port was a bustling mini city of its own, dozens of berths, civilian docks, and commercial loading docks stretching down the shore of the Tirsha River. Anchored at a long pier was a sleek steam-powered ship whose design was far different from the other ships docked in the port. Nathaniel squinted against the sunlight as he got out of the motor carriage, taking it in.
“The frigate is part of our ship-city. It’s small enough to traverse the inland waterway when we need to come to shore,” Akeheni said.
Its hull was black iron but painted a riot of colors not unlike how the E’ridians painted their airships. No mast was needed for sailing, not like some personal riverboats had, and its pair of chimneys were empty of smoke at the moment. The port and aft sides didn’t match in terms of design, with the port side that aligned with the dock having struts protruding outward in a way that indicated they were meant to lock onto something.
“I thought it would be larger,” Nathaniel said.
Akeheni chuckled. “It’s meant for maneuverability. It connects to our ship-city, which is anchored out at sea while we are here. Come, they are waiting.”
Someone up on the high deck called down to them in Tovanian, and Akeheni responded in the same language. Nathaniel didn’t know what was being said, but he could follow gestures well enough. The gangplank was winched out, dockworkers securing it to the pier. Akeheni jogged up it with easy steps, Nathaniel following her a little less easily. The river water lapped at the hull of the ship below, and he caught a glimpse of gun holes before he made it to the deck.
Unlike on an airship, no shadows from a balloon offered up shade in the face of the rising sun. Nathaniel lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the glare, gamely following Akeheni across a deck designed for the sea as opposed to the air, no lifelines crossing overhead or hooks needing to be used. He wondered if that changed due to the weather but set that question aside in favor of greeting the person Akeheni led him to meet at the stern.
He was surprised when Akeheni took a knee, fist held over her heart and curly head bowing in respect. When she spoke, she opted for the trade tongue, but her tone held a deep respect that had been offered to no one in the Imperial estate, not even the emperor.
“My guiding star, I have answered your call,” Akeheni said.
At first, Nathaniel had thought the golden design on the person’s back had been stitched onto a Solarian robe. He froze when he realized that it was no embroidery but the distinct golden lines of a constellation tattoo cutting through tanned brown skin. Part of the golden lines and starbursts that made up the Leviathan tattoo was hidden by the fall of long hair pulled off their neck by sturdy leather ties into a tight queue. When they turned at Akeheni’s words, Nathaniel found himself looking into a face he’d seen before in some Star Order prayer books, their visage always an afterthought to his own country’s guiding star but still ever present in the religion that all of Maricol’s children followed.
Farren quirked a smile at him, their dark eyes pinning him much how he thought a harpoon might pin a leviathan. They were shirtless, their loose linen trousers belted in place around slim hips. They were barefoot, seemingly unbothered by the hot metal deck they stood on. But for all the kindness in their face, Nathaniel could not stop the way his knees went weak, and he staggered in the face of a star god.
“Oh,” he said weakly. “Hail to the Eclipse Star.”
He hastily locked his knees and bowed, breath a ragged sound in his ears. Despite his unease, his clockwork metal heart still beat at a steady pace, and he kept his gaze on the deck, wondering if the sweat sliding down the back of his neck was from the weather or nerves.
“I don’t expect your prayers or your loyalty. You are one of my sister’s children,” Farren said, their voice lilting a bit with a humor Nathaniel didn’t understand.
He rose out of his bow only when Akeheni stood again. He blinked rapidly, looking everywhere but at the star god. “Regardless, I am yours to command.”
Farren hummed thoughtfully at that before stepping closer, bringing with them the scent of the sea. The edges of their constellation tattoo curled over their shoulders, the golden points catching the sunlight and glittering on their skin. “Aaralyn would be displeased if I asked that of you.”
“I have never had the honor of the North Star’s attention.”
